Curve 4

With her illustrious breasts of violets and a sugar tree on her shores

the knowledge of her body is an end in itself, beyond which life has nothing to offer.

But what diamond eye can with impunity fix itself upon a beautiful woman—

a beautiful queen?

Amazing eyes where love has made his nest

I turn to you again.

Curve 3

Under the designer label satin of dawn, the color of summer when one closes one’s eyes

it was her true self I saw, in her original nudity, among gardens and tortures—blood and flowers—

 her long oiled body gleaming in the shadows like a sleeping  
                                                                               python.
Tresses of pearls were fastened to her temples, and fell to the corners of her mouth

           which was rosy as a half-open pomegranate. 
                      Our blood, enamored of its tyrant

                               flows for the eternal swarming of desire.

Curve 2

 

The weight of a petal has changed the face of the world and made it ours.

Above all this queen of Byzantium whose eyes reach so far above ultramarine,

so lovely fair that what seemed fair in all the world seemed now mean,

 


stood before me like a rainbow braided within some storm, more beautiful than Venus arising to the world

and scattering all round the iridescent fire of her blond loveliness.

Imagine a whipped cream dream with a nuclear-powered heart and blood of sunfire in her blue veins,

all her traits combined in a Raphaelesque harmony by the meeting of curves.

Thus was the clay made worthy once of the full animal perfection.